Breaking Even
by Miss Usami
Summary: Hajime Hinata and his friends are not popular at his school. It's always been that way, and it likely always will, until a new girl enters the school and breaks expectations. [DR/SDR2 No Despair, No SHSL AU]
1. Chapter 1

I start this Monday by falling flat on my back. A normal guy might think his day could only improve from here. I doubt this is going to be the case.  
Two blonde boys in glasses glare down at me. I hear laughter. Someone cheers.  
Above me, a giant sign hangs unsteadily from the hallway ceiling: a pink and purple, glitter-encrusted symbol of doom, no doubt handmade by Maizono and Mioda from the Prom Committee.  
Leon Kuwata takes a flying leap over me and slaps the sign with his hand. A shower of glitter falls from the ceiling and a piece lodges itself into my eyeball.  
I close my eyes.  
"Watch where you're going, idiot," Togami One, the uptight one, says, "If you had injured my brother, I'd…"  
"Forget it, Byakuya," Togami Two, the fat one, says in return, "A scrawny thing like him could never hurt me."  
Kuwata cheers again, and pumps his fist above his head. A small crowd of pretty girls and some guys who all seem to be wearing the same shoes have gathered. They're the popular kids, gathering their day's supply of entertainment from my comedic fall, like squirrels gathering nuts.  
"Did you have a nice trip, Hajime-chan?" Mioda asks, and I'm really not sure if she's genuinely trying to be friendly or not. It's hard to tell, these days. Still, the Pack laughs anyway.  
No one but Mioda calls me Hajime-chan. Some of the more polite kids throw in "Hinata-san" sometimes, and I've seen "Hinata" occasionally, but otherwise I have always been just "Hinata-kun".  
I am definitely _not_ a "Hajime-chan."  
Now Komaeda is looking down at me with an expression that could be interpreted as concern. This is because a) my best friend's face rarely displays anything other than a semi-cheerful appearance, and b) Komaeda knows that showing anything will only lead to additional torment when I do, eventually, stand. I stay frozen for about eight more seconds until Komaeda holds out a hand and helps me to my feet.  
Owari appears beside me, glaring down the hallway. She's in her fighting stance, and she has her game face on. Unfortunately, the principal had been in his about-to-expel-Owari-if-she-gets-in-any-more-fight s stance lately. I fear that this day is about to go from bad to worse.  
Komaeda gathers games I borrowed from Nanami that have fallen from my bag. Then he faces the Togami twins, Leon Kuwata and the crowd with a slight frown.  
"I'm really sorry about all of this. Would you mind letting Hinata-kun get to his locker, now?" Komaeda murmurs.  
"This doesn't concern you, Komaeda." Togami Two says.  
"Be quiet, simpleton." Togami One says at the same time. I decide not to react.  
Owari has other ideas.  
"What'd you call Komaeda?!" She says, barrelling past me, and it's only a last-minute survival reflex that makes me reach out and grab her by the arm.  
"Control Big Sis Owari, Big Bro Hinata! She's scary!" Saionji, the school's resident gremlin says, and the crowd laughs again. Owari turns purple.  
"It's okay, Owari-san…" I mutter, not because Saionji said to calm her down, but because I can hear her whispering, practising the string of cuss words she's about to shout at them all under her breath.  
Enoshima giggles, and after prompting her creepy sister joins in. "Seriously, If this loser factory was awarding Losers of the Year, you boys would be up for, like, a Loser Grammy or something."  
What Enoshima has just said doesn't really make sense at all, but it doesn't matter to the Pack. They laugh. Just when I'm praying to the gods that my death will be quick and painless, the bell rings, and Togami One hip-and-shoulders me as he passes. I'm shoved into the lockers, just like a cheesy high school movie.  
The guys follow him, glaring at us. The girls dissolve into their own little cliques, tittering.  
Owari and Komaeda appear at my side. I straighten my tie. "Have I ever mentioned I hate my life?"  
Komaeda sighs. "Often, Hinata-kun." He looks at me blankly. "Are you ready for English class?"  
"I could _so _take that guy," Owari growls, taking no notice to us.  
"Yeah," I say, "and then you'd be expelled."  
We stand where we are for fifteen seconds, a silent agreement between us to wait for the length of time it will take the Pack to reach our English classroom. We don't look at each other. But when the time has passed, we start to walk together.

I used to be a fan of Hope's Peak when I was a kid. Back then, high school seemed like the coolest thing ever. It would be full or parties, driving cars and spending time with my many, many friends. It turned out that yeah, that happened – but not for me. Now I'm excited to get out of here, and devote all of my time at a stupid job that doesn't make any money in a tiny house that I spend the rest of my life paying off. Hooray…!  
The Togami twins have gotten even worse this year. Maybe they fell into a vat of some jerky supervillain juice over the summer holidays. Or maybe their three functioning brain cells are just really bored.  
Despite the fact that prom is nine months away, the Prom Committee has turned the entire school into a container of glitter and pink, which only adds to my already terrible mood.  
Our walls, once papered with art projects and posters warning about the damage of cigarettes, now hold a sea of trash about prom. Collages of faces in various lip-joined poses have appeared everywhere, while movie posters have bastardised in unforgiveable ways. I'm yet to be convinced that the "Glamour of Old Hollywood" can replicated on poster paper with art supplies from Walmart.  
The chess club's pin board is covered with a _Casablanca _poster. Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman have been replaced by the faces of Togami One and Celestia Ludenberg, Celestia's blank eyes staring into Togami's irritated ones. I have been thinking whether or not the old moustache-and-horns vandalism is too good for them.

Komaeda and I have English together now, but Owari has maths. She walks with us to our classroom anyway, even though she'll have to backtrack and will therefore be late.  
Komaeda shuffles unhurriedly to me left, and Owari slumps slowly to my right. Komaeda flicks my shoulder casually. Glitter drizzles from my sleeve. Owari clears her throat and runs a hand through her hair. I do the same, another pink-and-purple glitter shower rains onto the floor.  
It is the closest I will ever come to coordinated movement with other human beings.  
Needless to say, I'm not going to prom.


	2. Chapter 2

It's first period.  
I hunker down in my usual seat, third row from the front. Komaeda is beside me, expressionless and quiet, as usual. Tall and pale, Komaeda looks more like a skinny ghost than a human being.  
On my other side, Mikan Tsumiki is leaking tears onto her English book. Though she's much higher on the social ladder than us, Tsumiki is often bullied to tears by Saionji. I don't get why. Apart from being a total cry baby, she's nice. And the same-shoe guys think she's pretty, too, as evidenced by some graffiti in the bathroom.  
On Komaeda's other side, Chiaki Nanami has assumed her standard position, head down on her books. She will be asleep and drooling in two minutes. I worry for her games, which have been discreetly slipped under the books.  
Nanami is my only other female friend. She is the best gamer I have ever met in my life. She's one of those girls who might score a boyfriend at twenty-five, if she's lucky.  
Though, Komaeda is constantly hinting that in terms of girl-potential, Nanami is as good as I'm likely to get. I don't know. I've tried, experimentally, picturing her shirtless; but she always ends up buried neck-down in video games. I'm happy to report that this does nothing whatsoever for me.  
The teacher's head is buried in his drawer, and the volume of the class is steadily increasing as the clock ticks. I'm normally pretty interested in English, but the latest Pack incident has left me in no mood for writing complex sentence structures that make no sense. Instead, I start to doodle in my book.  
Then there is a knock on the classroom door.  
The door opens.  
Our assistant principal Ms Usami enters, dabbing at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. She reminds me of an older Tsumiki, somehow.  
She is followed by a girl.  
The noise in the classroom wavers and dies.  
Ms Usami sniffles. "Sowwy," she says as she pats her face with the handkerchief, sounding more like a five year old than a twenty-something year old woman, "I have tewwible allergies at this time of year." She hurries over for a hushed conversation with our teacher, pats the girl on the back, and nods at the class, and hurries out of the room again without saying a word.  
I don't have any interest about what happens at this school, but a new girl means fresh meat, which means possible freedom from the Pack's torment for a little while. I put my pen down and close my book.  
The teacher leans across his desk. The class is silent. The girl waits.  
She is wearing an olive green dress and a white dress shirt underneath, which almost makes her look more like an eleven year old 1850s English schoolgirl than a second year high school student. Her hair is cut in a short bob, and it is red – a natural red, too, not the crappy dyed red. She has freckles all over her face. She has a tiny shoulder bag, but I can't tell what's in it. She peers around the room impassively. She doesn't look terrified. She doesn't look overly confident, like Owari in middle school when she claimed she could fight Nidai, one of the biggest guys in school and win with one hand tied behind her back. Nanami and I mark that event as ground zero for the downward social spiral of our group.  
The teacher smiles at her. "So, it seems we have a new member to our Hope's Peak family. I trust we'll make… Koizumi… welcome. Tell us about yourself, Koizumi."  
The girl shrugs, like addressing a class full of possibly hostile strangers is no big deal. "Well, as you said, my name's Mahiru Koizumi. I've just moved here – to live with my dad since my mom's abroad. We're from around here, originally, but we've had to travel around quite a bit for my mom's work and all. She's a photographer. We lived in London for a little while, but she was working in New York City for a few months before now, so we kind of went around America for a bit in the holidays. Then my parents said that I had to come and live here again, so I could finish my education." She shrugs again with a half-smile. "Though I guess my dad was missing me." Something weird happens to the teacher's face.  
"That must mean you speak English, right? If you've been to all those countries," Sonia Nevermind, the school's exchange student gasps with excitement.  
"Uh… a bit. I'm not that great at it." Koizumi says. This turns out to be a huge lie, as she and Sonia exchange a few sentences in complicated English that I don't get at all.  
"Wait, is your mother… the war photographer Koizumi?" The teacher finally says.  
The faint scent of a celebrity is in the air. The energy in the room changes.  
"Ah, yeah," she replies, "are you a fan, then? That's a little embarrassing."  
"Are you _kidding?_" The teacher stares at her like she's walked into the class with someone's head in a jar. "Your mom – she's amazing! She's really good at showing emotion in her photos."  
"Yep. My mom loves to take pictures of really tragic stuff. It's kind of silly, really."  
The teacher seems to realise that there is a class in the room, because he closes his mouth and looks like he's trying to hide his excitement. He leans against his desk again. "Well, what do you know. Class, Koizumi's mother has to be one of the best photographers working today. She's taken very controversial pictures."  
There are hushed whispers. Mostly from people who have no idea who he's talking about, but are vaguely aware that they are famous magazines and therefore worthy of hushed whispers.  
The teacher rolls his eyes. "She's also taken photos of _Perfume._"  
Gasps and a flurry of hysterical whispers rocket around the room. _Perfume_ is the most popular idol group of 2013.  
Koizumi just nods, and gives him that half-smile again.  
The teacher shakes himself out of his stupor. He gestures to a seat in the second row next to Saionji, who is not looking impressed at all by this information. Koizumi walks casually to the table. A roomful of eyes are on her, but she walks like she's in the room alone. Teruteru Hanamura almost falls out of his chair as he tries to get a look at her legs.  
The teacher turns his back on us and begins writing on the blackboard. No one cares.  
She sits. She slips a leather-bound notepad out of her bag. She pushes herself back from her desk and crosses her legs, balancing her notepad on her knee. Behind her, two girls discreetly do the same.  
She looks at Saionji. I freeze, and I find myself hoping to god this girl won't talk to her.  
"Uh… are you alright? You look a little upset." Koizumi says. Saionji looks up at her, a frown on her face. And then one of the strangest things happens. It turns out the reason Saionji is not impressed is that she hasn't been listening – her obi had come undone, and she couldn't tie to up again. Koizumi does it for her. Saionji… Saionji _smiles_, and not because she just terrorized someone, for once, and hugs Koizumi. "Yay! Big Sis Koizumi's the best!" Saionji says with glee.  
Next to me, Tsumiki blinks with surprise.  
Nanami chokes on her own saliva and wakes up with a snort.  
Komaeda catches my eye. I know what he's thinking. _At least the Pack should be preoccupied for the foreseeable future._  
I roll my eyes. He crosses his. I try not to laugh.  
I return to drawing in my exercise book.


	3. Chapter 3

3:20 PM. The final bell rings, and I head towards the IT office to meet the others. Apart from the morning's trip, I've coasted through this day under the radar. This is because the only thing on anyone's radar today is Mahiru Koizumi. When I catch occasional glimpses of her, shes wallpapered by an adhesive layer of groupies.  
There's been much googling of her mom in between classes. Owari is even inspired to look her up on her iPhone, and Owari is rarely inspired to user her iPhone for anything other than Angry Birds.  
The net is full of Koizumi's mom's stuff: pictures and gallery openings and photos of a woman who looks way too young to be anyone's mom.  
By this point I've lost interest. I figure the vague proximity to celebrity will keep the Pack occupied for at least a month. A potentially incident-free month, the likes of which have not been seen since we had that substitute teacher last year that looked like the channel-one weather girl. I can't guarantee that the reprieve will be anything other than passing. But I _can_ guarantee a few things. There will be angst. There will be gossip. And unless new girl turns out to be a crazy killer cyborg, she will be of no relevance to me.  
What _is_ relevant to me is the fact that Owari has dropped out of gymnastics.  
Owari has been obsessed with karate since the elementary school, before she discovered that kicking people in the face was a legitimate sport. She trains almost religiously, and is actually amazing at it. She is definitely one of the best gymnasts at her school.  
Today she has wandered into the IT office, dropped six cans of Coke onto Mr Fujisaki's pile of cables, and said:  
"I've decided to stop training. I'm hanging up my leotard."  
Even Mr Fujisaki, who only knows Owari from a distance, pauses.  
Midway through last year, Nanami was employed by the school as Mr Fujisaki's assistant. Our IT coordinator (who happens to be the brother of a kid who's a year below us, Fujisaki) doesn't really need an assistant. He needs a hairbrush, and possibly a shower. Mr Fujisaki decided to finagle Nanami's services after stumbling onto an intense gaming session we were playing in the library one day after school. The session involved a fully coded mod that Nanami had created (with the help of Miss Usami, who also happened to be Nanami's older sister) that almost completely changed the gameplay. Mr Fujisaki was fascinated and soon got into an intense conversation with Nanami about coding and other stuff I don't really get, as I was only a novice back then. Since then Nanami and Mr Fujisaki had taught me more about computers.  
No-one messes with Mr Fujisaki. He's happy for us to hang out in his office whenever we like. When we are here we are, basically, free.  
We are listening to the radio which is blasting old sixties tunes in the background, because we always listening to the radio in the background. There is order to Monday afternoons, and in a world of stupidity and looming hostility I have come to depend on it:  
On a normal Monday, Komaeda and Owari will show up at three-thirty with Coke and candy from the shop across the road. Nanami will perch on top of the filing cabinet with whichever _Zelda_ game is on rotation that day. Owari will engage Nanami in approximately twelve minutes of argument about _Call of Duty. _Owari and Nanami will conclude their argument with some variation of the phrase, _Why don't you stick to Tetris/Checkers/Pong. _And then Mr Fujisaki will hide in the confusion until it's time for us to leave.  
Today, Komaeda is spinning slowly in his chair, his eyes on the ceiling.  
Nanami has stopped tapping her shoes against the filing cabinet. She is chewing on her hair again.  
Owari is eating her second chocolate bar, which is weird because she always stuffs her face with at least six bars when we bring it.  
Komaeda stops spinning. he looks sideways at me. I nod.  
"Any reason why you're quitting?" I say eventually.  
Owari shrugs.  
"Is it because of a guy?" Komaeda says. I shove a chocolate bar into his mouth.  
Owari sighs. "No, it's not."  
I feel like I should add something more. Something insightful. Something quote-worthy.  
But I have very little hope that my own life will ever produce anything close to a single, great line. I'm desperately running through my thoughts as I try to think of something passably encouraging to say to Owari.  
Except Owari has stopped chewing on her chocolate bar. Komaeda is looking over my shoulder. His eyes widen. Nanami stops chewing on her hair.  
And then I hear a voice behind me. The voice says:  
"Is this the IT office? I need a little help, if it's not too much trouble."  
It may not be quote worthy. But it turns my head anyway.  
Mahiru Koizumi is standing in my doorway.  
"I'm looking for Chiaki Nanami," she says, "the office sent me down here. I can't get to the network. They told me that you were the person to speak to?"  
"Ah... Hinata-kun, could you handle this? I'm in the middle of a boss fight, right now..." Nanami says. Koizumi looks for Hinata. Nanami points to me. Komaeda points to me. Owari points to me. I realise that I am, in fact, Hinata.  
"I'm Hinata," I mumble.  
"Hey," she says, "Koizumi. Nice to meet you, I guess."  
I stay still for ten seconds. She raises an eyebrow. "...Are you going to help me, or what?" She is holding a laptop in her hands. "If it's a bad time I can come back later. Only I have some sort of welcome pack in my inbox, apparently. It's a life or death situation, apparently..."  
No one moves for another five seconds. Owari stands. "Want something to eat?" She holds out a chocolate bar.  
Koizumi steps into the room and takes it.  
The next sequence of actions remind me of _Zelda, _actually, when you make the chickens mad and they all coming rushing at you. The room bursts into a flurry of misdirected activity.  
Nanami leaps down from her cabinet, still playing her game, and Komaeda jumps out of his chair, and together they shove past Owari and push a stool towards Koizumi. She sits. She unwraps the chocolate bar and takes a bite. She holds her computer out to me.  
The only thoughts I'm capable of thinking are that the sanctity of my safe house has been compromised, and the order of my Monday has been disturbed. I take the laptop from her without a word.  
"Thanks," she says with a mouth full of chocolate. "Sorry, I don't think I've met you guys, yet. It's been a blurry day."  
Owari sticks out her hand. "Owari, Komaeda, Hinata, Nanami," she says quickly, "but you've already met Hinata and Nanami. I'm Owari. _Owari._"  
Koizumi shakes her hand. She smiles that half-smile at Komaeda. "I guess that makes you not-Owari?"  
Komaeda grimaces. "No, I'm Komaeda. Nice to meet you."  
"Likewise," Koizumi replies.  
I open up her laptop. Her wallpaper is a picture from a black-and-white movie that I think is called _Manhattan.  
_I don't know what this means, but I figure the faster I work, the faster I can return the four of us to our status quo. I also know that no good can come from having someone like her in a confined space with Owari.  
I balance her laptop on my knees and type as fast as I can. As it turns out, this is not fast enough.  
"What's in that?" Owari asks, poking Koizumi's tiny shoulder bag.  
I may know next to nothing about girls, but I'm fairly certain they don't like it when you poke at them like they're a half-ripe orange. Besides, what if something... _private _was in that bag?  
Koizumi opened the bag, revealing a high tech digital camera. "It's just my camera. I take it everywhere with me."  
"Ah, you must be really good at photography, then," Nanami says.  
"Hey, you should take a picture of us!" Owari says. I type faster.  
"Uh, if you want. I'm really not that good," Koizumi says, but there's a smile and a faint blush on her cheeks. She turns her camera on.  
"A-all done!" I say, snapping the laptop shut, "Here, Koizumi-san. You can go now, nice meeting you." Owari, Nanami and Komaeda stare at me in surprise. I glare in return.  
When I turn my head to Koizumi, she looks a little offended. Oops.  
"Uh, if y-you want to go, that is," I say, a little embarrassed, holding out the laptop. She gingerly takes it.  
"That's alright. I guess I should go home," She smiles at the others, "Bye, Komaeda, Owari-chan, Nanami-chan, it was nice to meet you." She walks out. I sit back down. The others glare. Mr Fujisaki hurries out the door.  
I messed up.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! I've been having writer's block (go figure.) But hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently from now on!  
I'd also like to add one thing, since it might now make sense from the last chapter: Mr Fujisaki is Alter Ego. His younger sibling is Chihiro. In this AU, she is a trans girl.  
I hope I'm not being _too_ out of character. I did try to make their personalities a LITTLE less extreme (as in, Komaeda is less likely to rant about hope, and Koizumi is just a tad less judgemental of men) but I hope it doesn't distract from the story too much.  
Hope you enjoy this new chapter!**

Monday's routine has been effectively ruined, so I'm feeling less than cheerful as Komaeda and I walk home. After all, a school full of morons are supposed to be fawning over her; my friends are supposed to have more sense.  
Besides, Mr Fujisaki's office is supposed to be my Neutral Zone, one of the few places I can be free of the many nemeses put on this earth solely to give me pain.  
I'm explaining all of this to Komaeda as we walk, but I'm not sure he's listening.  
Komaeda is busy threading the cord on his parka from left to right. He tugs the red rope until it almost disappears inside his hood, and then he pulls it slowly the other way.  
He has been doing this for three blocks now.  
I'm an idiot. How didn't I notice this sooner?  
Nagito Komaeda does not say much. His face is capable of displaying maybe five distinct expressions. But right now he might as well be holding a megaphone and yelling "I. Am. Having. A. Problem."  
I forget about Mahiru Koizumi. "Hey… you okay?"  
Komaeda squints at the road. "Yes. I'm okay."  
I clear my throat. "You sure?"  
He shrugs. "I'm worried, I guess. About Owari-san."  
I think he's lying. I don't know why. So we don't talk about it.  
We walk another block in silence. Unless he's been replaced by a pod person, Komaeda would not just lie to me. His bedroom stinks of honesty. And regret.  
We do stand on the street corner for fourteen minutes, discussing our latest history assignment, horror movies and whether or not Owari is going to make it through the month without punching someone in the face. We conclude: pointless, awesome and probably not. And then Komaeda waves, and I wave, and we go our separate ways.  
I add Owari's gymnastic situation to my list of problems.  
I walk the four blocks from the park to my house, past the topiary and the people with prams that seem to be multiplying daily, zombie-style. I sometimes wonder what would happen if zombie hordes did invade. I doubt anyone would notice.  
Going inside, I take the stairs two jumps at a time and then close my door, exhaling the breath that's been stuck in my throat all day. I clear a space on my desk and turn on my laptop. I run a search for the gymnastic place Owari's been enrolled in. Their latest newsletter has just been posted; there's a competition coming up, and someone is selling raffle tickets. They have a new instructor from some other state, and the DVDs of their last competition are on sale. I can't see anything that would shed light on the Owari situation. Apparently, I also suck at detective work.  
I turn my computer off with a sigh. I should probably get a start on my homework.  
Instead, I log onto World of Warcraft.  
I haven't logged on in a while. I only get caught in the game when I'm playing with Nanami. Otherwise, my friends aren't really into it; Owari has the attention span of a fish, not to mention her excessive training, and Komaeda seems to be too wrapped up in… whatever he does to play.  
I connect to the server where my level eighty night elf has been waiting since the last time I played.  
And then I do nothing. This is stupid. Besides, the point of Warcraft is to sink into another world with zero reminder of my own pathetic one. There is no logic to this course of action.  
A message appears on my screen.  
"hajami-kun, can you help me with this quest? i need a hand."  
It's from Nanami.  
Nanami and I have matching usernames, kind of. It all started when we were seven and trying to play Club Penguin. I made my username Hajami, as in Hajime and Nanami, and she made hers Chikata, as in Chiaki and Hinata.  
Since then, I guess we've always just used those names, or some variation of it. We call each other by these names while online, for privacy reasons or something.  
I check out the map. She's not too far from me.  
"K. Can help. On my way." I reply.  
"thanks,"  
I find her Draenei in a tavern. I jog next to it. A dwarf called Koywata stands next to it.  
"Who's this?" I type.  
"koizumi-san," She replies.  
"Oh, shit," I whisper to myself.  
I consider logging off.  
A request to talk to me appears. I click accept without even thinking about it.  
A line of text appears. It seems that Nanami has made a group chat.  
"Hi, Hinata. It's me, Koizumi, from earlier?" A message says.  
"Oh, _shit,_" I say to myself, before replying.  
"Hey. Sorry for earlier, I—" I suddenly realise I have no excuse for earlier. I revise my message.  
"Hey. Sorry for earlier." Becomes my final message.  
"hijami-kun isnt good with girls," Nanami says.  
"Seriously? What a lame excuse," Koizumi replies. I sweat. "I now dub you 'Hinata the Wimp'! I expect you to prove yourself and shed your title."  
"lol. ok lets go," Nanami types.  
We start the quest. Koizumi is fast and skilled with her weapons. Occasionally she will shoot a question to us, but otherwise we fight in silence.  
We reach the heart of the lair. We shoot our way through the mobs, and Koizumi steals a sword, which is the objective of the quest. Her dwarf performs a dance. I make my night elf bow.  
"Nice work, Hinata," She types.  
"im impressed by your crossbow action," Nanami adds.  
I don't know what to say. I type a smiley face. It's unlike me to use smiley faces.  
Koizumi types a winky face back. "Time for bed, Thanks again, Nanami. See you later!"  
Koywata logs off.  
_See you later? _What does that mean?  
I glance at my phone. It's nearly 1 am. I sweep empty soda cans from the desk into my bin. Somehow, I have consumed five cans.  
I think I may be experiencing a caffeine-induced heart arrhythmia.  
In total, I manage approximately eight minutes of sleep.


End file.
